Deep Blue
by sighclops
Summary: AU. Revan and Malak go for a drive.


The shifting light isn't much, but it's enough to see by.

The spidery silhouettes of empty trees line the right side of the road, hallowed and glowing with the moon passing through the branches. The pale sky is full of winter, the street full of dirty snow slipping into slush, the sound crackling under the tires of Malak's car.

His profile is made of shadows on shadows, poor contrast against the rocky side of the mountain beyond his window, dotted with little shelves of snow. There's the sound of them breathing and the heater on, but there's the sight of his pale skin and his sharp features, the strange tilt of his smile.

And just-Revan wants to touch him. She always wants to touch him.

He keeps glancing over at her, the moonlight passing over his face, and his blue eyes are too bright for a night like this. It's the kind of night that speaks loudly, it speaks of winter and an ache. And it's like-he won't look away.

"Stop that," she says. "We're driving up a bloody mountain, you'll get us killed."

Malak smirks but he turns his eyes back to the road, humming softly over the slow sounds of the car. She doesn't recognize it at first but then-

_To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. _

"You're such a jerk," she says over the tap tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel. His profile shifts under the light pouring in from her window, through the trees, and over the soft lines of his face made fuzzy in the dark. He looks like winter with his skin all pale and his eyes all heavy and she wants her teeth on his jaw. Leave it blood red and bruised, you know, to destroy that illusion.

And she wonders if that's normal-to want to kiss her best friend this much.

"I don't know if we'll get there in time," he says, finally. His voice is softer than it usually is and she wonders about that too, if it's because it's just the two of them. She likes the sound of it, though, but she loses the thought when he flicks off the high beams. Another car comes towards them and sends blinding white light in through the windshield, flooding over them.

They pass in silence. She blinks her eyes. "I'd offer some consolation but you refuse to tell me why we're here."

"Then tell me you love me," he jokes. It sounds like a joke, at least, and his lips are pulled into a smile so yeah, she thinks he's just joking. Maybe it'd be funny if she leaned over and kissed him right now, over those lips and those teeth. She thinks she'd like to kiss his whole face, his temples, his eyelids, and that's messed up, it's so messed up how much she wants him.

"I love you," she says, but it sounds like the answer to his joke, and that's the thing-they're always joking, always taking it too far.

He bites his lip before he pulls his teeth back into his mouth, still a strange tilt to his smile as he glances over at her once, the moonlight stealing over his pale, pale skin. "You're an atrocious liar, Rev."

"I wasn't lying," she says, pouting into the dark. "I love you more than the clouds love the horizon."

He laughs, but it's the kind of laugh that means he's not taking her seriously. It fizzles out into the sound of the car twisting around these winding roads, the melting snow still slush beneath the tires.

"That doesn't make any sense," he says.

She finally turns her eyes away from him, back out at the moon missing a sliver on its side. "But doesn't it?" she asks. "That's where they're always going, at least."

"Doesn't mean they're in love, Rev."

She smirks. "That doesn't mean I'm not."

A weird kind of silence descends over the car while he cracks the windows so that the cold air seeps in. Outside the trees make a sound, inside Malak clears his throat. They're up higher now, so the trees are kind of below them and the moon can reach them, pale blue light spreading through the car and over the black upholstery, settling into dark blue shadows.

Pale blue, dark blue, the depth of Malak's blue eyes. She can feel it in her throat.

"So you're not going to tell me?" she asks, because yeah, she still doesn't know what they're doing. She just knows that if Malak calls at three in the morning to go for a drive she'll say yes, and that's messed up. And she knows it's dangerous to be driving with the roads in these conditions, but she doesn't say anything and that's pretty messed up, too.

It's all kind of messed up, jumbled up, but they're not even going fast. The car, the streets, the trees below, it all moves so slow it feels drugged.

"I'll never tell," he says, and his voice has settled back into that deep rumble vibrating against his chest, the car, and it's a sound she loves. She kind of loves him, if she's being honest with herself, she probably has since she met him on Talvon's couch when she was seventeen, thick blue smoke in the room.

Two minutes, two years-not much has changed, has it?

"Of course you won't," she says, her hand moving to close the window. She can't feel her lips.

She thinks he rolls his eyes because his chin has a certain jut to it. Besides, it's hard to focus on anything but him, and she knows the little nuances, every little thing. Somewhere in the back of her mind she might have him memorized and that's probably creepy, but-

"What time is it?" he asks. She pulls out her phone, squinting as the screen lights up in her lap.

There's a text from Talvon from three hours ago. She hadn't even noticed.

"It's a little past five."

She watches his hands tighten around the wheel, the pale skin of his knuckles becoming just a hair whiter. "Shoot," he says under his breath, or mixed in with his breath. The sound would be the same either way, does that make sense?

"Would you just tell me why we're driving up a mountain?" she asks.

He hums for a moment like he's considering it, but he just smirks again. The shadows on his face create strange shapes, but where the moonlight touches him he looks celestial-milk skin glowing silver blue, clear and smooth.

"I take it back," she says. "I don't love you at all."

This time he frowns, but his mouth is still odd. "What did I say about you being an awful liar?"

"I think the word you used was atrocious, which is bloody offensive, really. Besides-how could I be lying both ways? One of them has to be the truth."

"To be honest, I don't know which one I'd prefer."

"Like I said, _offensive_."

"Please," he says, blinking slowly as a cloud pushes across the moon, but it's not as dark now. The sky is turning a strange peach, the clouds heavy and full of snow in the early morning. He sighs. "We both know you love me."

She lets out a soft laugh because, yeah, she does. The sound stays between them in the black of his car, her voice soft as it falls from her lips. "And I have no idea why."

It comes out a lot fonder than she meant.

When they pass a sign signaling a scenic overlook in two miles, Malak visibly relaxes. She smiles to herself, watching out the window at the world coming alive. It's funny because she can't stop thinking about him, about what his lips would feel like against hers. And that's funny because like, he's aggravating and he woke her up at three in the morning-so why does she want him so much?

"You look antsy," he says, drawing her attention away from the window and all over his pale skin again. "What are you thinking about?"

One short laugh. "Your stupid mouth."

And yeah, she can't breathe.

There's tension written all over his face, his brows and his forehead, the lines of his lips. There's a strange tension between them. He blinks, everything moving slowly, and the car pulls over into an empty parking lot off of the road.

Ahead of them: a stone wall, the mountains above, the trees below, the sun piercing through the heavy winter clouds.

Behind them: stilted conversation.

"Come on," he says, and he's pulling on a red beanie, tugging it down his forehead until it hides the tips of his ears. The car is off and he doesn't wait for her before he gets out. Revan watches him through the foggy windshield, the red of his hat standing out against the pale morning before him. His broad shoulders are covered by a black wool coat barely covering his long torso. No, she doesn't love him at all.

Revan_ is _an atrocious liar. Whatever. She counts to fifteen before she unbuckles her seatbelt, bare fingers on the cold door handle.

The frozen air swallows her whole.

Malak's lighting a cigarette when she sits beside him on the hood of the car. The click and flash of his lighter always reminds her of the first time they met, the thick summer air in Talvon's living room, the _hey, you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you, would you?_

He wordlessly hands it to her after a long drag. Two years really isn't that much time.

She watches the end light up, warm in her fingers, and blows the blue smoke towards Malak who's resolutely staring ahead at the sun rising over the treetops. A small smile fits itself on his lips, him blinking over at her with those blue eyes, blue like smoke, moving over her face, between her gaze and her lips.

"Are you cold?" he asks when she hands the cigarette back to him. Their bare knuckles brush against each other and that feels cliché but Revan meets his gaze, smoke and sun between them.

One breath. "Yeah," she says. "I'm bloody freezing."

Cigarette between his lips, he reaches both hands towards her and pulls her into his chest. She closes her eyes just for a moment, breathing against his soft sweater beneath his open coat. One of her hands is playing with the empty buttons, the other tucked close to her chest. Everything is soft like a dream, the only sound is the cold breeze brushing over them. It's so loud but so quiet, everything sort of spinning in the air and melting over them. That doesn't make sense.

And oh, she wants to lay on the ground, on her side with the snow against her cheek. It would be easier than this-to be this close, to be like this:

Touching without really touching.

"What are you thinking about now?" he asks, and his voice is very quiet against the stillness. It's quiet and low and it feels like they're the only people in the world right now. They're the only people really alive right now.

She squints against the sunlight that lines the edges of her vision, tilting her head back to look at his jaw, her brows raising when she realizes he's watching her, and they're close, is the thing.

"I don't know," she says at first, but yeah-the lying thing has to end. "My teeth on your skin, I guess."

And he closes his eyes, his eyelids thin and slightly purple, lined with veins in the focused light. When he opens them he's looking away, his chin jutting to the side. "Don't say that."

"I mean it, though."

And like-why doesn't he get that?

Ice cold. He moves his gaze away from her and she can't tear her eyes from the sharp and soft lines of his face, lined in white gold from the sun. Everything's white: the milk white of his skin, the frosted white of his breath.

Everything except his eyes-they're all blue.

"I just-" he starts then stops. His voice is far away, his eyes are far away and she wants him closer. Close. "I can never tell with you. If you're serious or not."

"Do you want me to be?"

His voice is tight. "Stop."

Between them: cold air and frosted breath. Everything white and gold.

She lets out a short laugh, the sound slicing through the silence. "Sorry," she says, because all of this is funny in a nonsensical way, like maybe she can't breathe and he might not want her. This might be him saying he just wants to be friends but she doesn't think she can handle that, doesn't think she can back down.

Oh, she really can't breathe.

So she laughs again, the sound sad, dead. It's like, all she wants is to touch him, her hands on his skin, but he still doesn't get it. His strong features are set in a strange sort of determination, his eyes are glassy as he keeps his gaze still on the mountain filled horizon.

"Malak," she says, and she moves her hand still against her chest, her fingers clutching his soft, soft sweater. The color is kind of lost, resembling the silhouettes of the pine trees, her hand pale white against it, the sound still quiet when he doesn't answer her.

And he doesn't answer, but he finally looks down at her. His eyes are sharper in the light, the blue of them almost translucent with the sun. He keeps his gaze steady on her and she can feel her heart hammering in her chest as her fingers move down, down, slipping between the fabric of his sweater and the smooth skin of his stomach. Her hand feels heavy against his warm skin, her nails moving over the dip of his waist, him hissing through his teeth.

Everything feels heavy right now.

He closes his eyes for a long moment, Revan watching until he opens them. He shakes his head. "Your hands are freezing," he says, the sound quiet and everything is quiet except for his breathing, the way his body moves to live.

It's funny how she can be so sure of herself and still so uncertain about him. He doesn't say anything else, just lets the silence overlap and breathes as she rubs small circles against his skin. She doesn't answer, doesn't feel the need to-she just lets them stay quiet as the sun moves behind the clouds, the day brighter and duller at the same time.

"Revan," he says, the sound absolutely the quietest she's heard him talk, the sound almost building up to something and she can feel it under the surface. "Revan," he says again and she smiles this time, closing her eyes for a moment before tilting her head up to look at him.

"What?" she asks, but he just hands her the cigarette still burning in his other hand. She takes it, going for a drag but he slides his hands along her jaw before she can, he pulls her forward and lets his lips rest against her forehead.

Close.

She closes her eyes, because she doesn't really want to see this, not right now. She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling of his lips on her skin. Everything soft and heavy like winter and yeah, that's appropriate. She almost smiles but he drags his lips down, moving over her brow, presses them to her temple. It's soft and it's sweet but she's always holding back, always waiting on him. She pulls back, watching the panic in his eyes before she leans forward, presses her lips against his.

It moves slowly at first. Slow, slow, slow.

His lips against hers, the feeling that yeah-this is it. She can't help but smile as she pulls her hands away and wraps her arms around his neck. Everything safe. Everything warm in the frozen air.

Revan opens her eyes, lets him pull back this time and for a long moment they just stare at each other. The idea that they just kissed still floating in the air, floating above them with the clouds and spinning in slow circles around them. Ideas are funny like that.

"So you do love me," he says, which, yeah, she does.

"You're an idiot," she says, but she doesn't like the way it sounds so she shakes her head. "But I do, yeah."

"Yeah," he echoes, looking out at where the sun is swallowed fully by the clouds now. "Yeah, I guess I do too."

When they drive home, the streets pass by like a dream.


End file.
